


Stuck In A Loop

by OwenToDawn



Category: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Flashbacks, Gen, Platonic Cuddling, Recovered Memories, Self-Hatred, Trauma, physical flashbacks, sensory issues, speech difficulties
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:42:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25108669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OwenToDawn/pseuds/OwenToDawn
Summary: Link remembers the events of Fort Hateno and has difficulty pulling himself away from the memory
Relationships: Link & Prince Sidon
Comments: 6
Kudos: 78





	Stuck In A Loop

**Author's Note:**

> This is entirely self-indulgent and is 100% an ID fic and also me exploring my feelings about the memory at Fort Hateno. Hopefully it's still an enjoyable read regardless. You can find me on Tumblr or twitter under the same username but I'm very social issues oriented on twitter. 
> 
> title from howling 404 by Dean. I suggest the acoustic version if you want some background music to reading this 
> 
> comments are loved. I have a longer, happier, post-canon fic planned for these two too :)

Link lies on the ground, staring up at the dark sky as the rain continues to splash across his face and soak him. His mind whirls, unable to tell if the rain is real or just a memory. Regaining memories is like that sometimes, the sensations washing over him and leaving him dazed and confused on what reality was. Now, staring up at the sky with the memories of his death, for that’s what it was, at the front of his mind, he can’t tell _when_ he is. His skin feels cold, the strength gone from his body, and his mind churning sluggish and slow.

Pushed to the brink, felling so many Guardians and monsters until his body gave out. Even now, he isn’t sure if his heart is beating. In his chest he feels it struggle to beat, but he can hear it steady and strong in his ears as his head spins. The conflicting feelings are enough to make him choke and he rolls onto his side, voiding the meager contents of his stomach as the nausea gets the best of him. His arms shake and it takes everything in him to push himself upright and onto his feet.

The mismatched heartbeats continue to make him shake and he leans on one of the stone ruins, trembling and numb fingers tugging the Sheikah Slate free from its holster on his belt. He brings up the Shrine locations, blinking and trying to make his vision focus. His heart stutters in his chest, but it’s not his now heart it’s his past heart or is it the reverse? Why is he so cold?

_Safety. I need. To be safe._

He presses his thumb into the slate and collapses even as his vision fills with blue light.

-.-

When he awakens, he’s…warm. And floating. Not quite floating, just…

He opens his eyes and stares at the luminous stones that are scattered across the canopy of the waterbed suites at the Seabed Inn. With careful motions, he rolls onto his side, then further towards the edge. His muscles ache, protesting at each movement as he swings his feet over to rest on the ground, shivering at the cold stone that contrasts so much from the heated bed. He places a hand on the end table and stands.

Or at least he tries to. Instead, he ends up collapsing on the floor, his muscles unable to carry him. His blood rushes to his head and it’s like he’s back on that cursed field, a chaotic combination of heartbeats rushing through his body and leaving him confused and trembling in its wake. He clutches at his head, curling up on himself and biting down hard on his lip. The pain jolts the memory away again and he exhales, harsh, as he flops onto his back.

The room door opens and Prince Sidon of all people rushes in, gaze frantic. Link glances at the table he’d grabbed. It’s knocked into the far wall, the glass container holding a candle having fallen off and shattered on the ground. That explains why Sidon looks the way he does. He looks back at Sidon and offers a few hand signs.

_Sheikah Slate?_

Sidon moves to the dresser near the door, grabbing the slate off the top of it before kneeling at his side and holding it down to him. “I wasn’t sure where to put it. Your clothing was sent to be cleaned and mended, but I figured you’d want this close by when you woke up.”

Link nods that he understands as he looks for the messaging app Purah installed for him, but even drawing it up makes his hands shake and he has to stop and let the slate rest on his chest as tears burn at the corners of his eyes. He’s never felt more betrayed by his body. He doesn’t even _know_ if the pain he’s feeling is real, or just some sort of feedback loop from his flashback.

“Here, friend, it’s alright,” Sidon says, picking the slate up and holding it close to Link’s face. “I’ll hold it. Take your time.”

The kindness in Sidon’s voice just makes the tears well up faster and he swallows past the lump in his throat as he lifts up a hand to start pressing at the letters to spell out what he wants to say.

_“Remembered dying. Can’t tell what’s now or past.”_

Sidon reads the words a few times, frowning. “What do you mean can’t tell?”

" _Body. Hear two heartbeats. Muscles ache._ ”

“The healers checked you when you got here,” Sidon says, setting the slate down beside Link’s chest. “You were suffering from a chill and shock but nothing truly serious once we got you warmed up. There’s nothing wrong with you, and I can hear your heart myself and it sounds just fine, I promise.”

The words are comforting, Link supposes. It’s good to know that there’s nothing actually wrong with him, but that just makes the horror of his body refusing to bend to his will all the worse. His body was a tool just as any weapon he foraged off a slain enemy. It wasn’t meant to just fail when there was nothing wrong it.

"Link, I do not think you should push yourself too hard,” Sidon says, speaking slowly as if he’s having a hard time picking his words. It’s odd to hear. Usually Link is the one who fumbles words as they turn to marbles in his mouth and he grabs his slate instead. “I imagine it’s a very traumatic thing to remember. It’s hard remembering my sister dying, but at least there’s no physical body memory for me to recall. I can’t imagine what it feels like for you right now.”

Link shakes his head, a low noise escaping him before he gives up and shoves the heels of his palms into his eyes instead. “It does not matter what I…” His cheeks burn with a flush as he hears his words come out in a slur and he tugs at his hair in frustration. “Feel. I am not. My body is…”

“It’s okay,” Sidon says, wrapping cool fingers around Link’s wrists and pulling his hands down. “Don’t push yourself. I have all the time in the world to hear you, my friend.”

“Weapon!” Link spits the word out, glaring up at the ceiling. “It’s a weapon. I am…it does not have feelings.”

The words taste like poison on their way out and Link wishes not for the first time that someone could rip out his tongue so he’d never infect those around him with the burden he’s meant to bare. What peace he gains from finally speaking the words is tainted by the sadness in Sidon’s eyes. He has precious few friends, and the thought of letting any of them down makes his heart ache even worse.

"Your body is a part of you, and you are much more than a weapon,” Sidon says, voice quiet. “The mind and body are connected, and so your body will never be just a weapon and I think you know that too, deep down. If they weren’t connected at all, you would be able to get up and walk out that door.”

Link shakes his head. He doesn’t have the ability to argue, not now, but he doesn’t want Sidon to think he agrees. It doesn’t matter what sort of feelings he has about his burdens; his body is to bend to his will regardless because Zelda depends on it. The whole of Hyrule does.

“You need to rest,” Sidon says after a moment of silence. “And I don’t just mean your body.”

“No time.”

“I will make time,” Sidon says. “If I have to go out there myself and buy you time than I will, but you are not leaving until you’ve recovered properly.”

Link wants to protest, but he can’t. He can’t even push himself upright on his own, nearly falling and smashing his head on the ground when he tries. Sidon sighs and picks him up with one hand, dropping him back on the bed and then grabbing a blanket from the dresser and draping it with gentle care over Link’s body. Link watches as he grabs the slate and sets it on the dresser before moving to the nightstand and setting it up right.

“I’ll have someone clean up the glass after dinner. Please rest until then. It’s just a few hours,” Sidon says.

“Okay.”

It’s not like his body is cooperating enough for him to go anywhere anyways.

-.-

When Link wakes up again, it’s to the smell of cooked fish. He rolls over, watching as Sidon sets a plate of Staminoka bass and cooked greens on his nightstand. Sidon smiles when he straightens.

“The smell of food never fails to wake someone up no matter how tired they are,” Sidon says. “Do you think you can sit up?”

Link rolls back onto his back and takes a deep breath before getting a good grip on the bed and pushing himself up. It’s a little harder on the waterbed, but he manages. His arms only shake a little. He pulls himself back so he can rest against the stone headboard and lets his hands drop to rest beside his thighs. Sidon sits next to the bed on the ground and hands the plate over to him, resting it in his lap. His fingers feel numb when he grabs the fork and he drops it almost immediately.

Sidon catches it though and places it on the plate again. “I do not mean to insult you with this offer, but I don’t mind feeding you.”

“That’s fine…”

To his credit, Sidon doesn’t make a big fuss about it, doesn’t get awkward or overcompensate for how odd it is. He just cuts up the fish into small bites and holds them out for Link to bite and chew, waiting quietly between bites. If anything, his silence is what’s odd. It makes guilt curdle low in Link’s gut. He thinks about the sadness in Sidon’s eyes and voice when he’d overheard him speaking to his sister’s statue and hates that he’s once again caused Sidon pain.

His inadequacies, his inability to be enough and handle his own responsibilities…all it does is lead to him hurting people.

Sidon sets the fork down and pulls the plate away. Link goes to ask him what he’s doing, but as soon as he opens his mouth, a gasping sob spills forth and he realizes with a start his cheeks are coated in tears again. Sidon makes a soothing noise, pulling him from the bed and Link goes, wrapping his trembling arms around Sidon’s large form, fingers digging into his skin as he tries to keep a grip.

"I wish you could tell me what you’re thinking that makes you cry this way, treasured friend,” Sidon says, a large hand running down the length of Link’s back.

“Failed…” Link gasps out, shoving his face against Sidon’s collarbone. “I couldn’t keep fighting. It’s all my fault…”

“Can I…”

Sidon pauses and goes silent so the only sound is Link’s continued gasping noises, the kind of gut-wrenching cries he can’t ever remember making. When had he ever let himself do this? He wishes Sidon would make him stop. Say something, anything, that would help him pull himself back together, but he doesn’t say anything at all, just holds Link close. It’s a gentle kindness Link isn’t sure he deserves, but it’s one he’ll take nonetheless.

Before long, he doesn’t have the strength to keep his arms up. They fall to his sides, and then curl in around himself, as if he’ll be able to keep everything inside if he holds himself tight enough. It doesn’t help. But Sidon tightening his own grip and cradling Link close does. The pressure and strength and warmth of his arms soothes the chilled and wet feeling of rain that still seems to chase him down. Memories, that’s all the sensations are. Just like the past heartbeat in his chest that struggles to keep going.

Finally, the tears dry. He wipes the mess from his face on his shirt as best he can, hating that he’s this much of a mess in front of Sidon. Then again, Sidon had helped carry his bleeding and weary body back to the Domain once they had freed Vah Ruta. This probably isn’t the worst state he’s seen Link in.

“Can I ask what happened back then?” Sidon asks once Link’s breathing is back to normal. “You don’t have to tell me, but I don’t think it’s helping to keep it to yourself either, what I mean to say is I’m willing to listen, if you want to share with me. I don’t mind helping you bear your burdens, I promise.”

“I…it was…” He pushes himself closer to Sidon, feeling steadier when Sidon wraps a large hand around his hip to hold him close. “I was fighting at Fort Hateno and we…there were so many Guardians I had to take Princess Zelda and run but it wasn’t…we got surrounded in the field beyond the walls. I tried to fight them all off, but I was so _tired_. My body wouldn’t let me.” The words come out easier than they did when he first arrived, perhaps because of the food and rest, but perhaps too because of all the crying. Even if it’s made his head ache and his eyes burn, he supposes it has its benefits. “She finally awakened her sealing power and saved us both by purging Ganon’s influence from the Guardians, but I collapsed and I could feel my heart stopping.”

“Wait, what do you mean finally awakened?” Sidon asks.

“She never obtained it before Calamity Ganon arrived,” Link says, voice dull. “She…I don’t know why, but it wasn’t until then that she finally had the ability to call it out.”

“Link…no one knows that,” Sidon says.

Link frowns even though his head is bowed and Sidon can’t see it. “No one knows what?”

“We all thought she had tried to seal Ganon and failed because of _you_. That’s how it’s always been told – that you didn’t have the strength to protect her long enough for her to seal Ganon away,” Sidon says. “But that’s not true at all if she couldn’t use her sealing power until Fort Hateno. She failed, not you.”

Link shakes his head, if only out of habit. He’s used to shouldering the blame. It makes sense after all, that he should be able to hold out and protect her and the rest of Hyrule until she was able to do what she needed. But he hadn’t been able to do that. “It’s…”

And why _hadn’t_ he? He’d been strong then – he remembers many of his battles and the Guardians and Moblins and Lynels he’d fought. But even now, with only twenty or so shrines under his belt, he feels stronger than he had back then, like his reserves are deeper and there’s a power within him that isn’t entirely his own. Power that had been sealed off from him when Zelda refused again and again to let him try to access any of the shrines.

Power the Sheikah, having gone through this cycle again and again, had sought to ensure the Champion would always have access to.

“It’s too much to think about,” Link says after a long moment.

“It probably doesn’t help to not have all your memories,” Sidon says. His chin bumps against the top of Link’s head. “But Link, I…hold on.” Sidon moves, lifting Link like he weighs nothing at all and placing him with gentle care on the bed before moving to grab the Sheikah slate and placing it in Link’s lap and kneeling beside the bed again. “Do you have pictures on this of Fort Hateno? Like you had of the Lynel?”

Link nods, activating the slate and then moving the screen to show the album, flicking through images he’s taken of different plants and animals and monsters before settling on a few landscape shots he’d taken of the Fort Hateno battlefield in hopes that he’d be able to trigger his own memory. Sidon studies the photos as Link moves back and forth through them at each request Sidon makes.

“There’s hundreds here, you know that?” Sidon says, voice soft. “My friend…it is not a failure of your body that you could not defeat more. Look. Please.”

Link looks back down, throat tightening up as a chill falls over him again. How a memory could sink so deep in his bones is beyond his understanding, but he wishes desperately that his body would stop aching as if he were still there.

“Your body didn’t fail. You didn’t fail. You did more than anyone else could have,” Sidon says, his tone low but urgent. “You bought her time. You may not have bought enough to undo her initial failure, but you bought her enough time to give us all a second chance. That is not a failure of your body or your mind, my friend. Your body is much more than a weapon, but if you insist on seeing it that way, I must say, it’s quite the dependable weapon, is it not?”

“I…” Link can’t argue with that. He flips through the photos again. He thinks of the Guardians he’s seen scattered all along Hyrule’s lands. Certainly, he didn’t stop them all but… “Thank you.”

“Of course,” Sidon says. When Link looks at him, there’s a warm smile on his lips. “I wish you saw yourself the way I do.”

Link smiles, shutting the slate off and shoving it aside. “I’ll try. But Sidon, I…” He shakes his head. “My body still…”

“Hurts?” Sidon asks.

Link shakes his head again, a little harder. After so much talking, words feel far away again and he grasps at them. “Cold. It was cold then and I’m…cold.”

“How can I help?” Sidon asks without a moment of hesitation.

His heart, the false beat in his chest, beats a little stronger at the willingness Sidon has. “I want…” He reaches out to Sidon again and Sidon smiles, brightening right up.

“Ah! I will hold you again, of course,” Sidon says.

It takes a little maneuvering, but Sidon curls around Link on the bed as best he can, cradling Link close to his chest and surrounding him with his warmth. Link buries his face against his chest and listens to his heartbeat. Sleep finds him not long after.

-.-

Link wakes again in the early hours of the morning. The moon reflects off the gorgeous stones outside and the light plays across the bedroom. Sidon remains wrapped around him, a large hand tucked protectively over Link’s stomach. Link thinks of all the times in his life where he can remember being touched, but he can’t remember a single person he’s ever let hold him in such a way. But then, no one’s ever made space for him to be a human. To cry. To be more than a weapon. He thinks Sidon might be the first, or at the very least, the only one he can remember.

With Sidon surrounding him, and with more rest, the chill and ache in his bones and muscles seems to have finally been chased away.

His eyes slip shut again and he listens. Just one heartbeat. Slow, but steady, strong even. The memory of his death feels far away now, the sensations deadened by his calmer mind. Regaining his memories has always been hard. It’s as though revisiting those places forces him to relive the memory, traumatic or good or somewhere in between, and when he awakens again, it’s been stored away properly. Filed in its place. He supposes this time, it just took a little more than a good night’s rest.

He lays his hand over Sidon’s. Perhaps it’s time to start treating himself with the same gentleness that Sidon treats him with. He is more than a weapon after all.


End file.
